


A Better Ride

by Spuri



Series: Tumblr shorts [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kidnapped Derek, M/M, Post season 3a, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Werewolf Hunters, at some undeterminable point in time, okay, this is actually not as porny as the tags make it sound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spuri/pseuds/Spuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles rescues Derek from hunters and finds out something he really, really didn't need to know. Y'know, for his continued sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhoNatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoNatural/gifts).



> Originally posted on tumblr for [howlnatural's](http://howlnatural.tumblr.com) birthday, based on [this prompt](http://howlnatural.tumblr.com/post/73518302088/raisesomehale-im-pretty-disappointed-with-all).

 

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this,” Stiles tells Derek, and okay, it’s not among his better attempts at a joke, but with the mixed relief that his plan worked and nausea at causing a room full of passed out - at least he hopes they’re only passed out - hunters is dizzying enough that Stiles is willing to cut himself some slack.

Derek, judging by his glower, doesn’t seem to be as forgiving.

“Stiles,” he growls, and yep, that’s the really angry one. “Get me out of here.” He clinks the chains and manacles holding him in emphasis.

“Y’know, you could  _try_  to be a bit more grateful. This wasn’t actually easy.”

One of the hunters groans, making Stiles jump and decide that okay, yeah, he can totally bitch at Derek  _while_  getting him out. Multitasking, it’s a thing, and Stiles is usually pretty damn good at it.

“I mean,” he mutters, and grabs the manacle keys from the torture table (do all hunters have these?) before scurrying over to where Derek’s, heh, hanging out. “Why’d you have to go and get grabbed the  _one_  time Scott and Isaac are both out of town? Lydia gave me so much shit when I asked her for help.”

Admittedly, the knockout gas thing she’d come up with had been genius, and worked perfectly. Not that Stiles would ever doubt her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, the next time hunters want to kidnap me, I’ll make sure they contact you to schedule it first,” Derek snarks back. “Now get me  _out_.”

“I’m  _trying_ ,” Stiles hisses, stretching and going up on his tiptoes to reach the damn manacles. Because Derek is at least as tall as Stiles is, and with his arms stretched up uncomfortably high, it makes sense that Stiles has to  _reach_  uncomfortably high as well. And get uncomfortably close, too; Stiles can feel the heat coming off of Derek’s bare torso, even through his own three layers of clothing.

And yet, he can’t quite reach. Gritting his teeth, Stiles goes just a bit further up on his toes - so much so it actually kind of  _hurts_  - and looks down, ‘cause maybe it’s an illusion, but it always feels like he can reach higher with his head down than he can when it’s up.

The waistband of Derek’s boxers is visible over the edge of his jeans, and Stiles almost chokes as his mouth instantly goes desert-dry. Because he  _knows_  that brand, okay, and this is just… not good.

Conveniently, the key chooses that exact moment to slide home - dammit, not an imagery Stiles needs - and the lock clicks open. Stiles breathes a sigh of relief and steps out of Derek’s space, decidedly  _not looking_  as Derek rubs his sore wrists with large hands that are probably proportionate to-…

_No._

Stiles heads for the door, because he needs to get out of here yesterday, drive Derek home, and forget this day ever happened.

It doesn’t go exactly like that.

 

* * *

 

The thing is, Stiles isn’t a size queen - he’s  _not_  - he just does a lot of research about everything, and sex stuff definitely isn’t an exception. So he definitely knows what it means when the thick waistband on Derek’s boxers says  _UNDER ARMOUR_  in giant letters. And okay, maybe the third time he had to make the nerve-wracking and illicit drive to the sex store three towns over to get a bigger goddamn dildo firmly cemented Stiles’ preferences in his mind, but  _still_.

Besides, it isn’t  _fair_  that Derek should look like that, and apparently have the perfect goddamn cliché werewolf monster cock as well. And here Stiles had been doing  _so well_ , convincing himself the muscle car and leather jacket meant Derek was compensating for something, and that the stupid werewolf porn stuff online was all lying.

He’d been doing so well, not fantasizing too much about Derek, or letting himself crush too hard, because who wanted to obsess over a cranky asshole werewolf with a small dick and complexes about it, right?

Except, Derek was being less of an asshole, lately, and apparently had nothing to worry about in the downstairs department. Fuck everything.

So when Stiles drops Derek off at his loft ( _why_  was the guy still living at that godawful place? did he have some kind of personal rule that he couldn’t live anywhere if at least three people hadn’t died there at some point?), his Jeep skids just a little in his haste to get out of there and back to his own room. He’s been good, not  letting himself or his dick think about it, not even a  _little_  - which is impressive, for a teenage boy - so he deserves some quality alone time with his best pal.

By which he means his big, red dildo, okay, not Scott, ew.

Thankfully, his dad’s working, so Stiles can be  _loud_  - it’s hard to be anything but, when he’s fucking himself on a giant fake dick - and really get into it. He gets his clothes off so fast he’s pretty sure he hears something rip, and is rummaging through his closet for his toy box - he would keep it in his nightstand, but his dad not finding it trumps easy access any day - when he hears the pretty unmistakable sound of his window opening. Fuck.

He turns around, and inwardly swears again, wishing he’d had the presence of mind to put down the dildo and his best lube - there are certain things you don’t do with substandard lube, okay, Stiles knows his shit - or better yet, cover himself up.

“Stiles, are you alright? You seemed strange when you dropped me off, so-…” Derek says as he’s coming through the window, stopping abruptly as his eyes fall on Stiles. He’s frozen completely, still half-perched on the window sill, slack-jawed and gaping.

“Not. One.  _Word_ ,” Stiles hisses through gritted teeth. He can feel his face overheating from mortification. “Seriously, get the fuck out of here, and never talk - or even  _think_  - about this, ever again.”

“I don’t think I  _can_ ,” Derek replies, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s never heard the guy sound  _faint_  before.

“Sure you can! Isn’t that big old werewolf brain used to blocking out traumatic experiences? This is just a minor, itty bitty addition to that list.” Because Stiles knows what he looks like, okay, and he’s pretty sure Derek never, ever wanted to find out what kind of stuff Stiles is into sexually. Ergo, pretty traumatic, but comparatively less so considering the guy’s life so far.

Derek gives him a dirty look, and okay, maybe bringing up the very long list of how and why Derek’s life is fucked up was something of a Not Cool move. Y’know, in hindsight.

“I don’t see how trauma coping methods are supposed to help me not think about _this_.” Derek does a small all-encompassing gesture in Stiles’ direction. “What the hell, Stiles, ever heard of shutting your blinds? Or even your _window_?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m forcing you to stay,” Stiles snaps, clenching his dildo  _hard_  with anger and hurt. It wasn’t  _his_  fault Derek tended to randomly invade his room without so much as a fucking knock or other warning.

“How the hell am I supposed to  _leave_?” Derek asks, sounding incredulous and kind of strangled. Stiles stares at him in confusion, and huh, Derek’s pupils are so wide his eyes almost look black. Several thoughts swiftly collide in Stiles’ brain, and his gaze snaps down to what’s definitely a bulge in Derek’s pants.

“Holy shit, you like this!” Stiles exclaims, and looks back up at Derek’s face, and he looks awkward and embarrassed, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “You like  _me_! How is this real life?! And why haven’t you  _said_  anything, you complete moron? We could’ve been having sex ages ago!”

Stiles laughs and basically throws himself at Derek, not caring that anyone else would’ve been bowled right out the window, because Derek is a  _werewolf_  with _werewolf strength_  who can totally take Stiles’ weight many times over and can therefore do  _awesome, awesome things_  to him, because  _Derek is into him_ , and everything’s sunshine and nothing hurts.

“What?” Derek asks, confused and completely stiff under Stiles in more ways than one.

“Oh, come on, you’re not this slow, it means I like you too, in case you’ve somehow miraculously managed to avoid noticing this,” Stiles gripes, and kisses Derek on the nose. Derek goes cross-eyed to keep watching him, and actually blushes a little. It makes Stiles want to coo. “Now shut up and fuck me on your big werewolf cock.”

The small ring of colour around Derek’s pupils turn werewolf blue, and he growls, hoisting Stiles up and throwing him on the bed. He crawls seductively up to straddle Stiles, who’s pretty sure he’s never seen anything this hot ever in his entire life. “Careful what you wish for.”

Stiles shakes the dildo he’s still holding for some ridiculous reason in Derek’s face and smirks. “Pretty sure I can take it, big guy.”

Derek snatches the toy and throws it away so hard it thumps loudly against the wall.

“What, are you trying to say you’re a better ride?” Stiles asks, and  _god_ , he should stop watching porn if the stuff has made his dirty talk this shitty.

“Definitely,” Derek says smugly, and goes for a hard, wet,  _filthy_  kiss.

“Prove it,” Stiles gasps when he can finally think again.

Derek does.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you have any awesome people in your life who'd enjoy getting a sterek birthday fic? [Poke me on tumblr,](http://spurisani.tumblr.com) and I'll see what I can do. <3 You are, of course, free to poke me about anything else, too.


End file.
